


Goodbye

by iwpseudonym



Category: Good Omens
Genre: Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit suicide attempt, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Anorexia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, More Emotional Manipulation, completed work, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:39:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 8,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5197763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwpseudonym/pseuds/iwpseudonym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale wakes up to a message on his ansaphone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Comment, people!

Aziraphale.  
No doubt you’re asleep by now. Either that or you’re in the shower. I did know you wouldn't pick up. I just don't want to talk about this...ahem.  
I just wanted to say...well, there's a lot I wanted to say.  
First: Thank you. For being my...friend. All this time. Ahem. Thank you. It was...it was great.  
Second: I left the keys to my Bentley under my pillow. It's parked next to Tower Bridge. I want you to have it. Take care of it for me. Please.  
Third: I’m sorry this is so sudden, really I am. I didn't want to be a bother to you. I know you resented my constant attention, and...I know you doubt it’s real. I'm sorry.

I love you, Az.

Goodbye.


	2. Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale listens to the message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was originally supposed to be one quick chapter but my lovely boyfriend had some questions so now I am going to make it long! Muahahahaha enjoy!

Aziraphale woke up and yawned. He plodded to his kitchen, put on the kettle, and checked to see if he had any messages.  
"Oh, bother." He yawned again and decided to listen to it while he had his breakfast. Aziraphale took a roll, spread some butter and Marmite on it, made a cup of Earl Grey, and sat down. He chewed his breakfast slowly as Crowley's voice filled the air. He stoped chewing when Crowley mentioned the Bentley.  
'He never leaves his car! And he'd never trust me with it!' he thought.  
His eyes widened as he heard Crowley say "I love you", and he dropped his cup of tea into his lap as he heard him say goodbye.  
"This can't be true, this can't be true, please God this can't be true," Aziraphale muttered. He pulled on a coat, ran outside, and hailed a taxi to Crowley's flat. Once he got there, he rang the doorbell. Nothing. He rang it again. Nothing. He knocked at the window. "Crowley! Open up! It's me, Aziraphale!"  
There was no reply, save that of a pigeon who shot Aziraphale a very dirty look.  
The angel took a deep breath. He hated doing this, but he was so worried...  
He raised his had and miracled open the lock. "Crowley!" He ran through the flat, looking in every room. "Crowley!"  
Aziraphale came to the bathroom. He opened the door and very nearly fainted at the ghastly sight within.  
Blood was splattered all over the walls, although there was no weapon in sight. There was also no body. There was only a small envelope neatly placed on the sink by the untouched lavender soap, a bottle of drain cleaner tipped on its side, and the blood...oh, God, the blood...

One thing was for sure.

Crowley was most definitely gone.


	3. Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will update this every month until it is finished. Usually on the twelfth.

Aziraphale's hands trembled like mad as he picked up the envelope and pulled out the note within.

Whoever finds this:

I was Anthony J. Crowley. I had no family. I leave all my possessions to Mr. Azira Fell. He runs Engel Books on Common Avenue. There's enough money in the top drawer of my desk to pay for this entire complex. That should solve any issues with finding a tenant.

And then, in the ancient tongue known only to demons and angels, there was this:

Harm not the angel. I did this of my own volition, which technically speaking I'm not supposed to have. Might want to fix that. Anyway, I know the rules. Reincarnation, right? As an Englishman, please. I like this place.  
Thanks.

It was signed with his true name. 

Aziraphale's tears flooded down his cheeks. "Oh, Crowley..." he whispered. "But why didn't you tell me? Why did you have to do this? How could you leave me? After all we went through together...why?"


	4. Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale gets a messenger with unwelcome news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment?

It was a simple service, and Aziraphale the only mourner. The priest said some meaningless words and Crowley was burned, and his ashes put in a small silver tin for Aziraphale to keep forever.  
The angel went home to find another angel waiting.  
"Aziraphale."  
"Hullo, Gabriel," Aziraphale said.  
"The Lord Almighty extends His condolences. He understands the demon meant much to you. He also says to tell you that he will be reincarnated."  
"Really? Where? How?" Aziraphale looked up, eyes wide.  
"We cannot tell you. We fear it may drive you to do something stupid."  
"But I just want to talk to him! I just want to know why he would do such a-"  
"Have you forgotten already? When a demon or angel is reincarnated as a human, their memory is wiped."  
"But-"  
"He will be born to a human couple and be raised as a human. He will have no memory of you. None at all."  
Aziraphale shook his head slowly. "You can't...you can't do this..."  
"Are you arguing with the Lord's judgement?"  
"N-no, of course not, but-"  
"Then let's say no more about it, shall we? You get two weeks off for grieving, after which you will be expected either to find another demon to form an Arrangement with or to report to Heaven. Goodbye, Aziraphale."  
That night, all Aziraphale did was weep. He wept for his lost friend, and for his lost chance to put things right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm putting Aziraphale's heart through the wringer.  
> It's far from done.


	5. Birth

In a Yorkshire hospital, a child was born to a young couple.   
Once Mrs. Aching got past the pain of pushing nine pounds of screaming baby through an incredibly small space, she held the boy in her arms and smiled at him.  
"You did it, love," her husband said softly.  
"Isn't he a beauty?" Daisy Aching smiled at her son. "What'll we name him?"  
"Hershel is a good name," suggested her husband, Hershel Crawley.  
"No. Something nice, that he won't be teased for."  
"Simon?"  
"Too stuffy."  
"Vlad?"  
"Too many negative connotations."  
"Matthew?"  
Daisy considered it. "It's a thought," she admitted. "But I think he looks more like an Anthony than a Matthew Crawley."  
"Anthony Matthew Crawley."  
"Oh, but I promised my dad I'd name my firstborn for him! So...Anthony James Matthew Crawley."  
Her husband smiled. "That's perfect. Do you want any tea?"  
"Hershel Benjamin Crawley, we have been married for seven years now, and you're asking if I want tea?"  
"Lady Grey, whole milk, one sugar?"  
"That's more like it."  
The boy was taken home, and raised by loving parents. He proved to be exceptionally bright, and his parents exceptionally rich, and off he went to Eton as soon as he could.  
None of this, had he known of it, would have brought comfort to Aziraphale. He wanted his demon back. He didn't want someone else to get to spend time with him. But it was too late.  
All he had now were his regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment if you like or have questions!


	6. Hail Mary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hail Mary, mother of God, the Lord is with thee.  
> Blessed art thou amongst women,  
> Blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus,  
> Holy Mary, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our deaths.  
> Amen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit this is late I am so sorry I've been busy  
> Enjoy y'all

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been one day since my last confession. I have still been pining over my late...friend. It's been six months. Last night, I broke a glass vase in anger. I took the Lord's name in vain. I also told a lie to a potential customer about the price of one of the books in my shop."  
There was a pause.  
"My son, though of course your piety is exemplary, you seem to do nothing but attend services, confess, and work in your shop. You are correct in turning to God in your grief, but perhaps it is time for you to seek professional help. There are many psychiatrists in this area."  
Aziraphale clenched his fist briefly, thankful the priest could not see the gesture. "Thank you, Father. I shall consider it. What ought I do for my sins?"  
"Very well. Five Hail Marys."  
"Thank you."  
"God bless you, my son."  
Aziraphale exited the booth and knelt by the altar, whispering prayers.  
Every day he came to church before and after he was in the shop. He was often the one to help custodians pick up the trash in the evenings and the one to help arrange fresh flowers in the mornings. He went through all the old movements and prayers, standing up for all the right bits, and accepted all the assignments Heaven sent him, but the raven-haired demon was still in his mind every moment of every day. He was in his dreams, he was in his daydreams, and even now as Aziraphale prayed to arguably one of the purest people in existence, Crowley was still dancing around in his head, whispering.  
"You are a failure," he hissed. "A failed angel, a failed cohort, a failed friend. Why don't you do what I did? Oh that's right...you can't! You know you deserve this punishment. You were the one who made me take that holy water and-"  
"Enough," Aziraphale growled.  
"-kill myself, you sent me to my-"  
"I said ENOUGH!" Aziraphale snapped. He stormed out of the church, remembering only when he had already reached his flat that he still had two Hail Marys left to do.


	7. Gabriel Is A Prick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale gets another little visit from Gabriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late again guys! "orz It's a relatively long one, so that counts for something, right? Right?

It was all too much for Aziraphale.  
He gritted his teeth and clenched his rosary in both hands as he sat for hours, praying for guidance and deliverance from his grief and the strength to not pick up a knife and go the same way as Crowley…  
There had been so much he had wanted to say, so much that he had wanted to do, so many opportunities that he missed…  
Eventually, he started doing anything he could to forget. He started drinking all the liquor he could (which, being a supernatural being, was quite a lot.) He formed a smoking habit that rivaled Vonnegut’s. His confessions started to become rarer and rarer, and at first the priest was glad that he had found another source of comfort.  
Then he stopped coming altogether, and the priest was no longer glad.  
Aziraphale spent most of his time shut up in his shop drinking, smoking, and gazing out of the window waiting for something, anything to relieve him from this downward spiral.  
The nightmares didn’t help.  
Every night, Crowley would show up in his head, shouting and hissing about how Aziraphale betrayed him, how he was the one who put Crowley in his grave. How he had always doubted the demon, how ironic it was that the angel turned out to be the one who couldn’t feel love.  
Aziraphale stopped eating. He left the house only for liquor and cigarettes. The neighbours no longer knew him as Nice Mr. Fell who would always help out a fellow man in times of need but as Crazy Azzie whose flat the children were never to go near, you understand?  
It was in this condition that the Archangel Gabriel found him one February morning. Gabriel hadn’t bothered to knock-Aziraphale wouldn’t have opened anyway-so he gave Aziraphale quite a nasty shock when he strolled into the living room.  
“Hello, Aziraphale.”  
There was no response. Gabriel shifted slightly. “May I sit down?”  
“If you can find room.”  
Gabriel relocated some of the books and bottles off of a leather armchair and sat down. Aziraphale put on a dressing gown and went to the one across from him, not mentioning that Gabriel had chosen Crowley’s chair.  
“We’ve noticed you haven’t been accepting your assignments lately.”  
“And?”  
Gabriel paused. This was not how this was supposed to go. Usually a simple reminder of the transgression and a sufficiently icy glare would reduce an angel to a quivering mess. He cleared his throat and tried again. “We’ve sent you many reminders, and you’ve ignored every one.”  
“What’s it to you?”  
“Are you disobeying the Lord thy God?”  
“So what if I am?” Aziraphale fixed his own icy glare on Gabriel. “What’s it matter?”  
“I-It matters a great deal! Come on, Aziraphale, you don’t want to Fall, not like that demon-”  
He had made a mistake in mentioning Crowley, and sensed it immediately. He faltered as he searched for a better strategy.   
“I, I mean, er...look, you want to be a good angel, to stay in Heaven’s favour, yes?”  
“It’s better than being in Hell, so yeah, I guess.”  
“Get yourself together and I will give you information on where Crowley is.”  
Aziraphale shot straight up. “WHAT?!”  
“I will judge your performance. If you do well, if you are a good servant of Heaven, and that means accepting all of your assignments and ending your alcoholism and quitting smoking, I will lead you to Crowley. I will give you his address and let you speak to him for as long as you wish. He was an exceptionally strong-willed demon. It is even possible that he will be able to remember you.”  
Aziraphale was pacing the room now, his face alternating between red and white, like a barber’s pole. “But all that happens only if I do everything you say, right?”  
“It would not be much of a bargain otherwise, would it?”  
“True.” Aziraphale swallowed and stood still. “I accept.”  
“Good.” Gabriel smiled. “I look forward to seeing you in church tomorrow. Services are at ten o’clock sharp. Be sure you’re there. One slip-up and the demon will be lost to you forever.” He stood up and brushed off his coat, then extended his hand. “So long, Aziraphale.”  
Aziraphale nodded. “Bye, then. Give Heaven my best.”  
“Oh, I shall, but...will they believe you?” Gabriel clicked his tongue. “Good luck.”  
“I will not fail.”  
“Oh, I do hope so.” Gabriel closed the door after himself and teleported away, leaving Aziraphale to pick up the pieces of his broken life.


	8. Aziraphale's Going Postal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Very rarely, at a point in a man's career where he has made such a foul and tangled mess of his life that death appears to be the only sensible option, an angel appears to him, or, I should say, unto him, and offers him a chance to go back to the moment when it all went wrong, and this time do it right."-Lord Havelock Vetinari

Aziraphale picked up the empty liquor bottles that were virtually a second carpet at this point. He filled a bag with them and took them down to recycling. He did this with all the debris in his house until there was none left.  
Then he made himself a cup of tea, picked up his rosary (for the first time in months) and prayed, prayed for hours. He prayed for salvation, for forgiveness, for the protection of his and Crowley’s souls, and in gratitude to Gabriel.  
The next morning he arrived in church at precisely six o’clock to help with the flower arrangements. Before and after services, he wiped down the pews with a cleaning solution that smelled of lemon verbena. On his way back, he purchased a bouquet and a box of chocolates and knocked on his landlady’s door.  
“Mr. Fell!” She looked at him in shock. “Well, don’t you look smart. Erm…how are things going for you?”  
“Much better, thank you, madam.” He bowed slightly. “How is your family?”  
“They’re doing well, thank you.” The woman smiled.   
Aziraphale returned the smile. “I am glad to hear it. Well, I must be going, but before I do…” He took out some crisp £100 bills. “To repay you for any inconvenience I may have caused.”  
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly-”  
“I insist, madam.” Aziraphale firmly pressed the money in her hand.  
“Well, alright. Say, Mr. Fell, why’d you decide to turn yourself around like that?” she asked as Aziraphale was leaving. He paused, his hand on the doorknob.  
“I was doing everything wrong, madam. My life was a series of missteps and poor choices. My soul was slipping ever closer to Lucifer’s reach every minute. I had made such a foul and tangled mess of my life that death appeared to be the only sensible option. Well, an angel appeared unto me, and offered me a chance to go back to the moment when it all went wrong, and this time do it right.” Aziraphale nodded. “Good day, madam.” He left.  
Up in his heavenly quarters, Gabriel began to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean this is cheating I am not cheating no sir


	9. Gabriel is a DICK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel has another little message for Aziraphale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys do not read this chapter if you are deeply disturbed by any of the tags. It's not pretty. This chapter could potentially be skipped (although at the moment, not...really.) Just comment on any of the other chapters and I'll reply with a quick summary.

It had been a few months since Gabriel’s second visit to Aziraphale. Since then, Aziraphale had been showing up in heaven every time he was called like a good angel. He kept his bookshop open like a good businessman. He kept himself above earthly temptations like a good Christian.  
Had Gabriel not promised what he had, it would have been too much for Aziraphale. He wouldn’t have been able to even think about following orders had he still been wallowing in his grief. Now, though, he had been given the most cruel gift of them all-Hope. Hope was now toying with him, convincing him that any moment now he would be able to open the door and see Crowley standing there, just like before.  
“Hey, angel,” he would say. “Miss me?”  
And Aziraphale would choke back a sob and throw his arms around the demon and never let go…  
And it would all happen as long as Aziraphale followed all of his orders.  
It was a cloudy September morning. Aziraphale was in the kitchen making a cup of tea when he heard a knock on his door.   
“Just a moment!” he shouted and went over to open it.  
Gabriel stood on the doorstep. He inclined his head. “Good morning, Aziraphale. I trust you are well?”  
“Oh! Good morning, Gabriel. I’m doing well, thank you. And you?”  
“I am doing splendidly. May I come in?”  
“Oh, yes, of course. Sorry.” Aziraphale stood aside as Gabriel walked in. Then Gabriel turned around and closed the door, locking it and sealing it with a miracle.  
“Er, Gabriel, what’s going on?”  
“Do you recall the terms of our arrangement?” Gabriel sat down on the sofa. “Do sit down.”  
Aziraphale rather resented the command, but did as Gabriel ‘asked.’ “Yes, I do. I was to follow all orders issued by Heaven and quit smoking and drinking.”  
“Indeed. You have done well.”  
There was a moment of silence.  
“Is-is there some kind of a problem?” Aziraphale finally asked, fidgeting slightly. Oh, God, if there’s a problem, I don’t know what I’ll do, I’ll never see him again…  
“No, no problem at all,” Gabriel said. “Just…a new order.”  
“Oh, alright. What is it, then?” Aziraphale asked, his shoulders slumping slightly in relief.  
“It is an order not directly from the Lord, but rather from one of Heaven’s emissaries. We are given such power, you see.”  
“Okay. What’s the order?”  
Gabriel did not answer. Instead, he stood up, walked to Aziraphale, and took his hannds in his own.  
“Gabriel, what-”  
Gabriel leaned forward, closed his eyes, and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s. He squeezed the Principality’s perfectly manicured hands tightly and followed Aziraphale when he jerked his head back, shoving it into the back of the armchair, ignoring his struggles.  
Eventually, Gabriel released the kiss and looked at Aziraphale. He was blushing furiously and was at a loss for words.  
“I-I don’t understand this-what is-”  
“From here on, Aziraphale, you are to be my lover.” Gabriel smirked slightly upon seeing Aziraphale’s face lose all the blood it had just gained. “From now until I decide I no longer want you. That is an order, Aziraphale,” he added when Aziraphale opened his mouth to argue. “And you really cannot afford to disobey any orders, can you?”  
“N-No…”  
“Good.” Gabriel climbed onto Aziraphale’s lap and took his face in two hands. “I order you, Aziraphale…well, we’ll just figure it out as we go along.” He kissed him again, deeply and hungrily, and all the way Aziraphale had come towards recovery was undone in an instant.

*************

The next morning, Aziraphale woke up aching all over with little memory of what had happened. Gabriel had visited, and…something… He had been tucked into his own bed, but whoever had done that clearly hadn’t thought it worth the effort to clothe him. Aziraphale pulled on his flannel pyjamas, put on his slippers, and plodded to the kitchen.  
In the kitchen stood Gabriel, clad only in his boxers and an apron. “Good morning, Aziraphale. I trust you slept well?”  
It all came back. What Gabriel had ordered him to do…what Gabriel held over him…what Aziraphale had done…  
Oh God what have you done what have you done it’s all over now he’ll never forgive you now not anymore this is too horrible what have you done  
Aziraphale clapped a hand to his mouth. Gabriel chuckled. “Remembering what happened, eh? It’s alright. You’ll get used to it. Although, I must say, you are awfully cute when you’re guilty. Do you really feel guilty? You two were never in a relationship.” Gabriel shrugged. “I made pancakes. What do you like on them? Personally I like blueberries.”  
“I’m not hungry,” Aziraphale muttered.  
“Well, I think you’ll enjoy blueberries too.” Gabriel slid some pancakes onto a plate and gave them to the Principality. “Here. Eat up. Yum yum.”  
“I really don’t want anything-”  
“I said eat. Your. Food.” Gabriel’s voice changed, and an evil light shone in his eyes. Aziraphale took the plate meekly.  
“Good boy. Now, I’ve got to eat and run, I’m very busy. Just carry on doing what you usually do all by yourself here. I’ll be back to see you again sometime in the next fortnight.” Gabriel kissed Aziraphale. He placed his hands on Aziraphale’s hips and backed him into a corner where the angels stood, their bodies rubbing against each other. “I love you, you know.”  
Aziraphale blushed and looked away.  
“Do you love me?”  
Aziraphale shook his head quickly. Gabriel shook his sadly before leaning over to Aziraphale’s ear.   
“Next month, that answer had better be yes. Understand me?”  
Aziraphale nodded, also quickly. Gabriel gently blew into his ear before retreating to his pancakes.   
When Gabriel left, Aziraphale sank down onto his sofa and wept. He reached for his rosary, but just couldn’t make himself grasp it.   
Not anymore.


	10. Afterwards

Aziraphale wanted to stay like this, curled up on the floor, hidden, for the rest of eternity. He wanted Armageddon to come so he, like everything else on this forsaken planet would be wiped away, never to return.  
But he knew that Gabriel would return again and again and again and have his way with him again and again and again and if Aziraphale was just lying here, not fulfilling Gabriel’s terms…  
Aziraphale got up, wincing, and stumbled over to his shower. He got in and turned the water’s temperature as high as it would go, and then some. The near-boiling water scalded his skin. Aziraphale scrubbed his body, almost tearing at it, trying to get any remnants of Gabriel off. It was no use. He still felt his hands all over his skin, still tasted him on his tongue.  
He eventually got out of the shower and curled up in the corner of his living room, still gently weeping.


	11. Betrayal (?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hate me guys  
> (Also-finally figured out how to keep my italics, aww yeah)

It was the day of Gabriel’s next visit. Aziraphale had cleaned up his flat and stocked the pantry with biscuits and tea. He had prepared to try to talk to Gabriel, to maybe get him to stop his affections. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to prevent the Archangel from going too far again…

An hour later he had been pushed roughly to the floor with Gabriel’s hands and tongue and teeth all over him again. His body shook with sobs.

“Did you think you would be able to stop this?” Gabriel asked. “Did you think you would make me stop wanting you? Stop wanting you to love me? Did you? Because you were _wrong_ , Aziraphale, you were _wrong_. You will _never_ get rid of me, you hear? Never! You are _mine_ now, forever and ever. Now kiss me.” He grabbed Aziraphale’s head and almost smothered him.

Aziraphale couldn’t say anything. He wanted so badly to scream, to cry for help, but all he could do was silently cry, petrified.

“Last time I was here, I asked you if you loved me. You said no. I told you that answer had to change next time I was here. Well? Do you love me, Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale couldn’t even shake him head. Gabriel pulled his arm back and punched Aziraphale so hard his head spun and his vision filled with white light. 

“DO YOU LOVE ME?!” he roared. “DO-YOU-LOVE-ME?!” he demanded, punctuating every word with another blow. “Because if you don’t, then I swear to God you will never see your demon again.”

“I-I-” Aziraphale stuttered. “I l-love-”

“Louder,” Gabriel hissed. 

“I love you,” Aziraphale whimpered.

“LOUDER!”

“I LOVE YOU!” Aziraphale screamed.

_Help me help me somebody help me_

Gabriel smiled. “Good boy.” 

When Gabriel finally left that day, Aziraphale went to the corner of his room again and curled up there, sobbing, as was his custom. This time, though, the misery was punctuated by guilt, and the suicidal thoughts dancing through his head were even more vivid.

He had betrayed Crowley. He had sworn love to Gabriel, and betrayed his demon. What was he now?

A liar, a cheat, no better than any other soul cast to Hell.

All he could do now was-but he couldn’t even do that, could he? No, he was too weak to take that way out.

Aziraphale was lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, you know what? After the emotional turmoil of the past 24 hours (MCR) I have decided to unleash my wrath onto Aziraphale in the next few chapters. IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED, GERARD WAY?!!! IS IT?!?!?!!!!!!! WELL I HOPE YOU'RE FUCKING HAPPY NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


	12. Lord's Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale recites the Lord's Prayer right before...

Gabriel returned, many times, always leaving Aziraphale broken and completely depressed. Each time seemed to hurt Aziraphale more-not the actual act, he was becoming numb to that, but it seemed to him that with each caress, each attestation of love he was betraying his demon. That’s what made Aziraphale weep, made him clutch a knife, made him lie in bed for hours at a time staring at nothing, unable to move.

The nightmares didn’t help.

Almost every night, when Aziraphale finally fell asleep, Crowley appeared before him, taunting him, reminding him of everything he had done wrong, torturing him… 

As usual, Aziraphale woke up around midnight. This time, the air felt hotter, like it was suffocating him. He decided to go for a walk to clear his head a bit.

Off he went down the streets of London, not really paying attention to where he was going, just focusing on the cool air flowing into his lungs and out again. In and out. Focus on your breathing. In and out.

He looked up and saw Millenium Bridge in front of him. The strange metal structure was usually full of tourists and vendors crying their wares (indeed, he usually bought a little paper cone of caramelized pecans here) but was now empty, making it look just a bit eerie. 

It had never looked so inviting.

Aziraphale stepped onto the bridge and walked to the middle. He gripped the railing tightly and bowed his head.

“Our Father, who art in heaven,” he murmured. “Hallowed be Thy name; Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

He looked up and pulled himself over the railing.

He closed his eyes…           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me everyone and I swear there is a happy ending  
> (Also-if you don't comment you will never know what happens next)


	13. Saviour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorrynotsorry about the cliffhanger last time. Here's the latest installment in your favourite angelic drama!

"Hey!"

Aziraphale looked up. A boy of about fifteen was running up the bridge. When he got to where Aziraphale was, he bent over wheezing for a moment before straightening up.

"Don't do it, mister, please don't do it. I know it might seem like the only way out, but trust me, this isn't going to fix anything. Think about your friends, your family-"

"My only friend died several years ago, died because of me," Aziraphale said quietly. "There's no one that will miss me. I appreciate the concern, but please leave me be.”

“I know you probably think that there's no one who cares, but there is, there always is. You religious?”

“You could certainly say that.”

“Yeah, well, suicide's a sin, you know that? Cause God doesn’t want you dead, He wants you alive to enjoy the beautiful world He’s made for us all and for you to follow His path for you.” The boy held out his hand. “Come on. I can help you. Please?”

 

_And in that moment, that was when the true angel appeared, when real mercy was shown…_

 

Aziraphale took the boy’s hand and pulled himself over the railing. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Of course,” the boy said. “If you want, I can take you to a hospital.”

“No, thank you. You’ve done enough. Why are you out so late, anyway?”

“I’m staying for the holidays with my aunt, and she wanted me to get something from Sainsbury’s. I decided to take a bit of a walk before going.”

“Good thing you did.”

"You want to get a coffee or something?"

“I don’t, but here.” Aziraphale rummaged in his pockets and gave the boy a fifty-pound note. “Get yourself something nice. It's the least I can do.”

“No thanks,” the boy said. “I'm fine with money, and I wouldn’t feel right taking yours.”

“I insist.”

“Really, I couldn’t possibly.”

Aziraphale snuck it into his pocket anyway.

He accompanied the boy part of the way to Sainsbury’s. As they parted ways, Aziraohale remembered. “What did you say your name was again?"

"Andy! Anthony James Crawley!”

Aziraphale froze. When he regained the power of speech, he started back the way the boy went. “Wait!”

But it was too late. His demon had gone again.


	14. Aftermath

When Gabriel came by the next time, he was surprised to find Aziraphale looking hopeful. Cheerful almost.

"What's making you so happy?" he asked. 

Aziraphale turned to face him. "Recently, I met someone. Someone kind...perfect."

Gabriel raised his eyebrow. "Who might this be?"

"Crowley."

Gabriel's eyes widened. _Damn! If he's found the demon-what if he tells Metatron? Or worse-no. It can't be._  "That's impossible! He's not-he doesn't live in London, he lives in Manchest-aargh! Have you been travelling without permission?" He grabbed a fistful of Aziraphale's hair and slammed him against the wall. "I told you you weren't allowed to leave the city!" His expression softened, but only slightly. "For your own safety. It's dangerous out there."

"I know exactly how dangerous the world is, Gabriel. I live here. And I haven't been travelling-he must have. I met him on Millenium Bridge."

"You're sure it was him? Did he recognize you? He couldn't have."

"No..." Aziraphale looked down. "He didn't-I recognized him by his name."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Then you don't know it was him."

"No, I do. It was him." His eyes were wide open with desperation. "It had to be!"

"What were the circumstances of your meeting?" Gabriel asked.

"N-nothing special."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "You're  _lying_." He flung Aziraphale on the ground. "I can't kill you, but you know  _full well_ how much one of  _these"_ -he drew his sword-"hurts. So I recommend you start telling the truth right. Now." He stroked the blade, and flames rose from the steel.

Aziraphale curled up, praying for deliverance. Gabriel raised his sword...

"I was going to jump."

Gabriel nearly dropped his sword. He froze for a moment, then began to laugh.

"Come on. You, an angel, jump? You wouldn't. Zadkiel would send someone, or come himself if he wasn't too busy. Maybe even Raphael." He shook his head. "What were you actually doing?"

"He did send someone."

"I would have heard."

"Why so sure?" Aziraphale rose. "You're not the Prince of the Archangels, and you know it. I also know that Michael is  _not_ obligated to share anything with you, and Zadkiel only reports to Michael. So you don't know anything."

"Alright. Who did he send?"

Aziraphale looked Gabriel dead in the eye. "He sent Crowley."


	15. Oh No He Didn't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late "orz  
> Y'all will love this

Anthony James Matthew Crawley returned to his London flat. He stopped at the crucifix, said a quick prayer for that poor man on Millenium Bridge, and went to his room.  
“I’m back, Auntie. I got the milk and the apples, but they were out of brown sugar.”  
“Thank you, Anthony.”  
Anthony stopped. The voice wasn’t his aunt’s voice-it was male, with a crisp and very posh accent. “Auntie? You all right? Who’s that with you?” His hand went to the knife he always kept in his pocket, ever since that one day when the world went black with one splash of red.  
“Here in the kitchen, Tony.” That was his aunt’s voice, but she sounded nervous-not like herself. Anthony walked to the kitchen.  
His aunt was standing by the stove, wringing her hands. At the table sat a well-dressed man all in white. He seemed to have flown through the air, almost like he was a bird of some sort.  
“Your aunt is doing fine at the moment, Anthony. Or do you prefer Tony?”  
“You can call me Master Crawley. Who are you?”  
“I am Gabriel, an angel of the Lord. I am here to offer you my protection, and a word of warning.”  
“Pull the other one, it’s got bells on. Who are you really?”  
Gabriel sighed. “I really am an angel. Watch.” And he shrugged off his jacket, and his wings unfolded. “Happy?”  
“Cool special effects, mate, but I’m not buying it. And what’ve you done to my aunt?”  
“Tony, I’m fine, please don’t shout at him,” his aunt whispered. “He’ll get angry.” There was a poorly concealed bruise on her neck.  
Gabriel, meanwhile, was busy creating blue flames out of nowhere. “I can do that. I can conjure you some brown sugar. I can also tell you that your mother really does love you, for I have seen into her mind through her prayers. She prays for you. She’s very proud.”  
“She’s got funny ways of showing it. And alright, so maybe you are Gabriel. What do I care? And you said ‘protection and warning.’ What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“Do you recall the man you met on Millenium bridge?”  
“That poor devil. Yeah, I remember him.”  
“He is my…charge. He is raving mad, and quite dangerous.” Gabriel sighed. “Especially to a…handsome boy like you.”  
“What are you saying?”  
“My point is this: Stay away from him. He’ll only ever do you ill. I would recommend leaving London. Go back home. I know you’ve already finished school, you clever boy. Why not get a job? The military is full of opportunities. There’s also seminary.” Gabriel’s eyes flashed. “And I bet you’ll do exactly as I say, won’t you?”  
Anthony felt his head nodding, heard himself saying, “Yes, Gabriel.”  
“Good boy.” Gabriel ruffled his hair. “Now, I know you’re not going to tell anyone about this. You’re going to feel a calling, or decide to do your bit. And as for your aunt-” he turned around. “You’re a very silly woman who had a bit too much to drink, didn’t you? Shame on you, old girl, you’re past that age now. And definitely past the age for a lover.”  
“Y-yes, Gabriel.”  
“Break it off tomorrow.”  
“Yes, Gabriel.”  
“Good girl. Good evening, everyone. I hope I never need to seek you out again.” And Gabriel left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only update when I get comments; chapter 14 was a fluke.


	16. Apologies To Actual Gabriel

Years passed. Anthony James Crawley (he’d dropped the Matthew after a nasty court case) had long since given up his hobby of breeding tropical fish and announced his decision to go into seminary. His mother had cried tears of joy and pride, visible even through the cloud of opium that surrounded her now. Now he was Father Anthony at St. Augustine. He lived a simple life, abstaining from alcohol and drugs and relationships. When he was ordained, he joined the Army as a priest, and gave last rites to countless friends. Sometimes, he had to hold a gun and fire at enemies, enemies he had been told all his life were godless but he still felt awful shooting. 

Gabriel still came regularly, but with renewed vigor. Aziraphale completely gave up fighting him. He spent his days in a stupor, almost like a drug haze. He just sat in Crowley’s old chair.

Anthony James Crawley was sent home when he got a bullet to the leg. Every day but Sunday, he would walk around in the park, or if his leg ailed him, he would sit at home and read. On Thursdays, he helped with the church’s various fundraisers. When he was asked why he decided to become a priest, he said he felt a calling. He never told anyone that Gabriel had threatened him, had beaten his aunt.

Aziraphale had completely resigned himself to a life of misery, eternal misery even worse, in his mind, than damnation, but one day Gabriel finally pushed him too far.

“Hello, angel,” he sang as he came in. “Guess who I’ve been to see?”

Aziraphale shrugged. Gabriel beamed. “I’ve been to see Crowley!”

Aziraphale sat straight up. “What?!” It was the first he’d spoken in days.

“Crowley. You know, the demon. He really is _such_ a lovely person. He’s a priest now, did you know that? A demon priest.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“Well, besides the fact that you’ll never get a chance with him…I caught him in the act of breaking his vows.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true! It was behind the church. He was really going at it with one of the younger priests. _Very_ sexy. But…unholy. He’ll go to Hell for sure.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “No…you’re lying! You did this!”

Gabriel smirked. “What, me tempt a priest? That’s _his_ job, and he is doing it.” Gabriel whistled. “He’s a good catch, I can see why you like him.”

“But…can’t you do anything? And…when will you tell me where he is? It’s been years!”

“I actually can’t do anything, not now he’s a man of the cloth, and I suppose now’s a good a time as any.” He stroked Aziraphale’s face. “I was never going to tell you.”


	17. Old Loves Die Hard; Old Lies Die Harder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys seriously DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVE TROUBLE W/SUICIDAL ELEMENTS IN STORIES  
> But if you're like me and you like evil, read on...  
> I must again state that there is a happy ending planned.

Aziraphale’s head spun. Shame and guilt rose up in his throat, burning his skin.

Gabriel’s laughter echoed through the room, burrowing into Aziraphale’s skull. “What, are you upset? But you said you loved me. I’ve got it on video, even. Oh, poor Aziraphale, betrayed his demon for nothing…poor you…”

“Get out,” Aziraphale whispered. “Get out of here!”

“Or you’ll…what? You’ll kill me? You, a Principality against me, an Archangel? Don’t make me laugh.” He leaned closer. “I will do whatever I want to do to you and I will always-ALWAYS-get away with it.” He kissed Aziraphale. “Got it? Don’t even _think_ about disobeying me.”

“You’re going to Fall,” Aziraphale said.

“No I’m not. I’m an angel unlike any other. And I’m not rebelling in the least. I’m not doing anything that God specifically told me not to do. Read your Bible, Azzie. Bye-bye.”

 

********

First, draw a bath. Make sure the water is hot, as hot as you can stand. Make sure the plug is in. 

Leave a note for your next of kin, or if you haven’t got a next of kin, for your friends or the proper authorities.

A straight razor is best. Use rubbing alcohol to disinfect the blade, or at the very least, wipe it down with a damp cloth.

Remove your outerwear. Get in the bath. Say a prayer, if you pray.

Start at approximately half a centimeter below the centre of your left wrist. Make a straight line down. It is important to keep your arm in the water for the duration of the cut. Repeat on the right. If desired, make additional cuts on the insides of your thighs or horizontal cuts on your forearms. 

Submerge your arms fully in the water. The warm water aids circulation, permitting the blood to flow. 

Wait. Unconsciousness will come, and oblivion soon after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment?


	18. Don't Worry

“Here we are. I’ve got you. Aziraphale? Can you hear me?”

Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked into the large green eyes of Zadkiel.

“I’ve got you, Aziraphale. Everything’s alright.”

Aziraphale frowned. “What…”

“If an angel shows signs of self-destructive thoughts or exhibits certain behaviours, I respond. Last time, I sent the demon your way, but I wasn’t too worried because Gabriel had logged that he visited you every so often. This time, though…” He shook his head. “I’m just glad we got here in time.”

“Gabriel…”

“Shh,” Zadkiel said. “You’ve obviously been through a lot. We’ll talk about it when you’ve had a chance to rest. You almost died just now.”

Aziraphale nodded. Zadkiel smiled. “We’ve got you, Aziraphale. Everything will be alright.”

 

********

 

Zadkiel put in stitches and bandaged Aziraphale’s arms. He carried him to bed and stayed at his side while Aziraphale had a chance to reflect and rest.

“So, Aziraphale.” He looked up. “Are you feeling a little better?”

“Only a little, but yes.”

“Good.” He cleared his throat and took out a notebook and a pen. “Do you mind telling me what drove you to do this? I want to make it clear, by the way, that you will not be punished for anything you say or what you did.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“I see.” Aziraphale swallowed. “Forgive me, but…I cannot say.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to play Twenty Questions. Would you be alright with that?”

Aziraphale nodded. 

“Did someone hurt you in some way-physical, sexual, or emotional?”

“Yes.”

“Which one, or ones?”

“All three.”

“Was this person someone you knew?”

“Not well, but yes.”

“Was this person human?”

“No.”

“A demon?”

“No.”

Zadkiel’s eyes widened. “An…an angel?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Aziraphale nodded, his eyes brimming over with tears.

“Gabriel? No, don’t say anything more, I can tell. Jesu. Did…this happen more than once?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Years.”

By and by, Aziraphale told Zadkiel everything, everything that had happened. Zadkiel stood and summoned Gabriel. Gabriel had barely just appeared when Zadkiel bound him in silver chains, arresting him in the name of the Lord. Aziraphale was taken to the Heavenly Kingdom to rest and heal. 

Gabriel was sentenced to a choice: damnation or Falling. He chose to voluntarily Fall. Aziraphale declined to be present at his banishing and stripping of powers and authority.

Anthony James Crawley, who of course had never actually broken his vows, grew old and retired at the age of eighty-five. He lived a peaceful life cultivating roses.

Life was good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, please comment... :( It helps a lot


	19. Pigeon

One day as Aziraphale was walking through the Heavenly Gardens, he noticed a small disturbance by the Eastern Gates. Curious, he walked toward the intricate golden gates and founda carrier pigeon.

“Why, hello there,” he said. The pigeon didn’t fly away, and Aziraphale saw it was dragging a wing. 

“What’s the matter?” he said, picking it up. He saw that its feathers were singed and his throat contracted. With trembling hands, he untied the message tied to its leg and read it.

“ _53.4808° N, 2.2426° W. ~Gabriel_ ”

Aziraphale pressed a hand to his mouth, fighting to keep down the bile that rose in his throat upon reading the name. 

“Something the matter, Aziraphale?”

Zadkiel placed a hand on his shoulder. “What’s that you’ve got there?”

Wordlessly, Aziraphale extended the message. Zadkiel read it, his face perfectly expressionless.

“Ignore it,” he said evenly.

“They’re the coordinates for Manchester. Why would he send me the coordinates for Manchester?”

“I said ignore it. It is of no importance.” Zadkiel crumpled it up and threw it over the gates. “There is nothing any angel could desire in Manchester. It was created by demons for demons.” His face softened. “We want you to get better here. Dwelling on the past, or on what that abomination says to you…it’s not healthy. And you’ve a lot of healing to do. Your heart and soul must mend before they are tested again. Come. The kitchens have just baked fresh cake and we ought to hurry if we want to get any before the cherubim.”

Aziraphale followed, and ate cake, but couldn’t stop thinking about the coordinates.

He decided to go to them, and to Hell with what Zadkiel said about mending. Aziraphale wasn’t sure his heart could mend until he’d made amends to Crowley, and unless he went out into the world he’d never find him.           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my I sure do wonder what I'm going to do next with this   
> Comment and I won't kill everything :)


	20. Visitor from Heaven

Anthony James Crawley was puttering around in his garden, minding his own business, when he saw a young man walking up the path. He laid down his tools and straightened up.

“Hello there!” he said. “How are you?”

“Hello, Father,” the young man said. “I am doing splendidly, and yourself?”

“I’m doing great. May I ask your name, and what business you have with me?”

“My name is Azira Fell,” said Aziraphale. “I was told you were the most respected priest around Manchester.”

“Well, I was a priest, and I live near Manchester. Do you want to come in for some tea?”

“Tea would be lovely,” Aziraphale said, and followed his host inside.

“So, something’s been troubling you?” Anthony James Crawley asked, pouring tea. “Do you take sugar?”

“No to sugar, yes to your first question.”

“Well, you did the right thing in turning to the Lord for answers and guidance. What’s on on your mind?”

Aziraphale sipped his tea. “Well…I had a friend. Many years ago. One day, he killed himself in his apartment, and it turns out he… _loved_ me. I loved him too-you haven’t got a problem with that, have you, Father?”

“If I had a problem with homosexuality, I would not have joined the Catholic Church.”

“Well…anyway. I loved him, but I thought he didn’t love me back, and then he…shot himself…and I never got a chance to tell him, or even say goodbye. And then I found solace in the Church for a time, but then I was…assaulted…and lost my faith for a time. The person who…assaulted me was recently taken to prison, and I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m glad to be rid of him, of course, but he disrupted any sense of stability in my life, and I don’t know what to do. Then recently I heard that my friend is alive-”

“I thought he died?”

“I don’t understand it either. He’s alive, in Manchester. And I don’t know what to do.”

Anthony James Crawley was silent for a time. “Well, this is a very…unique situation you’ve got here.”

“Tell me about it.”

“My advice would be to go and find this person. If he’s your friend, tell him anything you wanted to tell him. If he’s not, then…don’t.”

“I see. Thank you, Father.” Aziraphale took a deep breath. “Please don’t be alarmed when I say this…you are the friend.”

“What?”

Aziraphale stood up and took off his overcoat. He spread his wings. “I am Aziraphale, an angel of the Lord. My friend was a demon. You were reincarnated after he killed himself.”

Anthony James Crawley got to his feet. “I don’t believe a word of what you’re saying.”

“I know,” Aziraphale said sadly. “Truth be told, I don’t believe myself sometimes either.”

“Begone from this house!” Crawley shouted. He pulled out a crucifix. “I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, along with all your minions now attacking this servant of God, by the mysteries of the incarnation, passion, resurrection, and ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ-”

“No!” Aziraphale screamed. (Exorcism _hurts._ ) “I shall go. Do not banish me from this plane. I truly am an angel.” He folded his wings and left the house. As he was leaving, he stopped and turned back.

“I’m sorry for causing you grief. I had to do it-I had to know.” He walked away.

Anthony James Crawley was shaken up for days after the incident. About a week later, he returned to his garden and almost succeeded in persuading himself that it had been an exceptionally strange dream.

He couldn’t deny, though, that a beautiful white rosebush with perfect blooms that bloomed seemingly forever had grown where his visitor had stood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isn't that nice? :)  
> This is one of those scenes that I had planned from the very beginning. The rest kind of grew organically from these scenes I had planned.   
> We are nearing the end.


	21. Return of the Angel

“You really _cannot_ stay in one place, can you?” Zadkiel shook his head. “Understand, there is a _reason_ that we didn’t want you going out anytime soon. This is the reason.”

“I know,” Aziraphale mumbled.

“Well, now at least your curiosity’s satisfied. We are truly sorry that your hopes were dashed like that.” Zadkiel sighed. “How are you feeling?”

“Actually…better. Like a weight’s gone from my chest.”

“Then you’ll be fine with returning to London, say, tomorrow?”

“Yes, that’ll be fine.”

 

********

 

Aziraphale returned to his bookstore the next day. He spent the day cleaning it, with the help of two cherubim. The day after that, he opened for business for exactly half an hour in the middle of the day. Two men came and asked him about his bookstore, and wasn’t it such a fire hazard? Just one match could set the place aflame, couldn’t it? Aziraphale said that yes, and the same could be said of their cheap suits, and thanked them kindly for taking the time to come and threaten him. They left, and never returned.

In the next month or so, Aziraphale continued about his life sans Crowley and, more importantly, sans Gabriel. He found that he was actually happy to wake up, happy to leave the apartment and go to Regent’s Park, happy to be able to do these things he’d dreaded before.

By and by, Aziraphale, who had never gotten a chance to really let go of Crowley, almost entirely let go. Crowley was now a friend he’d once had, and it was sad that he was gone but he was happier now. That was good.

Hearing that Anthony James Crawley was dead, though…that was not so good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like?


	22. The End

Aziraphale ascended to Heaven.

“Peter!”  
St. Peter looked up from his book. “Hmm?”

“Did you happen to record Father Anthony James Crawley? He died yesterday, you should have gotten him…”

St. Peter looked at the previous day’s records. “I do not have him. He is not in Heaven.”

Aziraphale’s heart sank. “W-what? But he was a priest, he was-he lived a life of virtue…”

“Aziraphale, everyone knows you have a crush on him. He’s not in Heaven. He cannot go to Heaven. He’s in Hell. No Demon can ever Ascend. Never.”

Aziraphale’s head spun. “But-but why?”

“The Lord has said this is so, therefore it is so. I am sorry, Aziraphale. You’re blocking the line.”

Aziraphale went back to his bookstore in silence. He spent the day practically motionless before something deep within his brain snapped. 

He rose. He put on his golden helm and breastplate. He stretched out his wings. He picked up his flaming sword and shield.

He was once more Aziraphale, Soldier of the Lord.

And he was going to fight Hell and everyone and everything in it.

 

********

 

News travels fast as wildfire in a place like Hell. Demons everywhere were tripping over themselves to get away from the Eastern Gates. They were abandoning their tar pits and knives and other torture implements.

There was an angel in Hell, and no demon could harm him. He walked with Divine Righteousness, carrying a flaming sword, protected by the name of the Lord, and he smote everything that stood in his path.

Lucifer Morningstar, upon hearing of him, ordered all citizens of Dis and Pandemonium to hide. He would deal with the intruder alone.

He flew out to meet Aziraphale.

“Angel!”

Aziraphale ignored him. He continued striding across the blood-soaked soil.

“What business have you in Hell?”

“I seek only to reclaim my own.”

“What in Hell can you possibly lay claim to?”

“A demon.”

“They are, by definition, mine.” Lucifer landed in front of Aziraphale. “I know well how angels operate. How you are all puppets of the Lord. And I know that you have no right to be here.” He drew his own sword. “Shall we duel? If you win, I will give you the demon. If you lose, I get your soul.”

He barely got his last sentence out before Aziraphale stabbed him clean through the middle with his sword, then sliced up.

He left Lucifer lying in a pool of his own blood and continued through Hell.

He found Crowley tied up over a fire. With two strokes of his sword, he freed him and caught him as he fell.

Crowley’s eyes opened. “What…”

“I’ve got you, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. 

“Who are you?”

“It’s me. Aziraphale.” Aziraphale’s face shone with tears he hadn’t known had been pouring down his face. “I’ve got you.”

Crowley looked confused, but then a light of recognition shone in his eyes. “Aziraphale!”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said, smiling through his tears. “Crowley, I love you. I love you more than any words can ever say. I never should have pretended otherwise, and I am so sorry for everything I’ve ever done to wrong you, and I love you. I love you with all my heart.”

“I love you too,” Crowley said weakly. 

“Will you forgive me?”

“Of course I will,” Crowley smirked. “Anything for my angel.”

Aziraphale leaned over and kissed Crowley gently.

They remained in that position, in each other’s arms, for what felt like an eternity, a blissful eternity. Hell burned all around them, but they remained, and for once in years, Aziraphale’s heart was whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your love and support throughout this past year.


End file.
